


Hungry

by jonnyluvssherlock



Series: Cock Slut John [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John, Cock Slut John, Cum Play, Dark Sherlock, Gang Rape, John Watson Whump, Johnlock - Freeform, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Puppy Play, Mind Control, Oral, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Slave, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, Slut John, Top Sherlock, Toys, Uni Student Sherlock, bad bdsm, degrading terms, john is a cum slut, lots of toys, mind altering drugs, no happy ending, sex slave victor, toplock, uni student john, use of collar on human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 23:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2406788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonnyluvssherlock/pseuds/jonnyluvssherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>19 year old John Watson has been taken and is being kept collared in a room by a man named Sherlock Holmes who says he's going train him into being the perfect cock slut.  John is trying to resist but it gets harder every day.  Sherlock has described his perfect image of his future with John and he's afraid it's going to come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first dark fic ever. i wrote it one night when i was in a very dark place emotionally and needed to get away from those feelings. John ended up becoming my minds punching bag sorry. this is rape 100% there is nothing consensual about anything here. i will also say this is full of bad tropes and horrible BDSM. i went to a sight and looked at all the toys and went ok look at all the things i can use on John.
> 
> this is Not how BDSM should look like.
> 
> i want to thank darlingnikkisayshi who was my beta and just a great person. they were someone i would talk to when things got annoying with the fic she also reached out to some friends for help who made this fic what it is. you are all wonderful. thank you so much.
> 
> Note: Please do not redistribute my fanfiction on other archives or sites such as goodreads or ebooks tree without my express permission.

They took him when he was nineteen, on his way home from rugby practice. A van pulled up beside him and he was gone. He didn’t know if he was looked for, or if his family even cared. At first, he was kept locked in the dark, no clothing, with nothing but a mattress. He didn’t know how long he was kept like that, how long he was left alone in the dark by himself with only his own mind. 

 

There was no way out of the room. It was simple: 4 padded walls with said mattress, uncovered, and a squat toilet in a corner. Only a small opening in the bottom of the door to the room that would open three times a day with food and water. He should know, he had spent the first few days trying. At least he thought it was three days. He had been served nine small meals. But there was no real way to tell.

 

The light from the hall blinded John, when his captor first entered the room. It had been so long since he’d seem any light at all. The door closed again, but the man brought a light source in with him. When John looked up at him he looked like an angel, the light shining around his face.

 

He knelt next to John setting the light and a bag down on the floor next to him. John was too tired and too happy not to be alone to fight or say anything. When the man touched his face, John cried tears of joy.

 

“John,” the man whispered to him.

 

John looked at him, giving him his full attention.

 

“My name is Sherlock,” the man said as he opened the bag and pulled out a collar made a of thick heavy black leather. He placed a hand gently under John’s chin, lifting his head so he could fit the collar around John’s neck. “You’re mine John. Remember that and everything will be fine.” The collar buckle closed around John’s neck and Sherlock smiled.

 

Sherlock rose, picked up his things and left John alone in the dark.

 

When John woke next, Sherlock was sitting on the mattress looking down at him. There was more light in the room today and John could see him better. He looked to be about John’s age, maybe a year or two older; he had an angular face, pale skin, and dark curly hair. The clothing he wore looked designer and he smelled of expensive cologne.

 

John started to move, but Sherlock put a hand out to stop him. John let his eyes wander up to the door, only for a moment. Afraid Sherlock would leave, John did as he was bid. Sherlock pointed to the wall next to John’s head. John turned and saw there was large wooden box there.

 

“Before we get started I want to establish some ground rules. I have a camera installed in this room. I will know if you break the rules.”

 

He felt the first prickling of panic. It seemed Sherlock was not the kind man he had thought. He wasn’t going to help him. John was on his own. He would have to find his own way out.

 

“In this trunk, I have a set of toys we will be playing with. Some of them we will play with together, some of them I will ask you to play with alone. If I leave you a task while I’m gone, you must have it done by the time I return. There is no saying no or refusing me. The only words you are allowed to say now that you are mine are ‘yes’, ‘more’, ‘please’, ‘thank you’, and ‘Sherlock’. It is best if you don’t speak at all. I can change my mind at any time. Rules will change. I will punish you for not following the rules. Do you understand?” Sherlock demanded. “I may not tell you I have changed the rules.”

 

John began to quiver as Sherlock spoke. He looked up at Sherlock, terrified. He knew he had to say something, but he felt like speaking, by saying yes, he was giving his consent; which he wasn’t. Sherlock started to glare at him and he became even more afraid.

 

“Yes, Sherlock.”

 

Sherlock smiled, opening the wooden box, and pulled out a tube of lube and a small anal plug.

 

“I wish I could fuck you today, but I’ll have to get you used to it.” His smiled widened into a predatory grin. “I’m going to be the first man you ever take.” He put the plug and lube down next to John and ran a finger down John’s cheek. “If you’re good, I’ll be your only. Lay on your back and open your legs wide.”

 

John stayed where he was.

 

“John.” Sherlock said firmly.

 

John rolled onto his back and opened his legs. If he went along with things for now, he could get out later. Sherlock got between his thighs and forced them open further. Uncapping the lube, he slathered his fingers, pressing two in to the second knuckle.

 

“Good boy,” Sherlock obviously enjoyed John’s whimpers. “Up on all fours” 

 

John couldn’t move. He didn’t want this to happen.

 

“John!” Sherlock said tightly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

John did as he was told. Sherlock picked up the plug, and without adding any extra lube, slowly worked the plug into John, then smiled at his work. Undoing his trousers, Sherlock pulled his cock free. Then he put a hand on the back of John’s skull and pulled him forward until his face was pressed against it.

 

“I don’t expect you to be any good at this. It’s your first time. After this, training will begin.”

 

John started crying. He didn’t want to open his mouth but Sherlock’s fingers bit into the back of his skull making him give in. The cock felt large and too slick in his mouth. His jaw ached. When it was over he collapsed on his side on the mattress. Sherlock stood, picked up the light and left the room.

 

They continued like that for a while. Sherlock would come in, tell John to get on his back, take the out a plug from the night before, finger him to stretch him and then work in a new one, each day larger in both length and girth. Then, after Sherlock would make him suck his cock. John had come to know it as his morning routine. Later in the day, Sherlock would come and take the plug out so John could use the bathroom. The plug was always replaced and John finished the session by suck him off again.

 

Some days, Sherlock would put a vibrating plug in him while he sucked his cock, or he would make John lay on his back while he fucked him with a vibrator. In the evening, Sherlock often came in angry and rolled John on his back forcefully. He’d take one of the dildos and fuck John with it until he came. Sometimes it took a while. Then he’d leave it inside John while he fucked John’s mouth.

 

Sherlock was full of praises while John had his cock in his smaller mouth. He’d learned the praise would come, as long as he did as he was told, took him in deep enough, swallowed all of Sherlock’s cum. He enjoyed it when John suckled at the tip after lapping at it as if any drop lost would be a shame. He’d even called him a slut once when John had chased after his cock and licked at the head seeing a missed spot of cum on the spit slicked shaft.

 

Sometimes, Sherlock would choke John with his cock; see how long it would take until he would beg for air. John did better every day. He’d then pat his arse, fill him with a new plug, and tell him he’d done well.

 

Once, John had refused. Sherlock knocked him out. When he woke up, he’d been locked in a small cage unable to move. He realised there had been a waterhose shoved into his arse instead of a dildo. Sherlock had turned on the water, filled him up till he cried, and begged, to suck his cock. When he was done, and Sherlock cooed at him, full of praise. Finally, Sherlock rubbed his arse, and removed the hose. Water and shit spilled from him. The relief of having the hose taken out and the water moving out of him had been humiliating. He’d even made John rinse the floor after with the same hose before putting him back into the cage, whimpering and used. Sherlock had left him in the cage and done it again, later after dinner, just to get the message across. The next morning, Sherlock was back in his room letting him out of his cage. John had rolled over and opened his legs the moment the door opened and he could get on the mattress, making Sherlock smile. It was humiliating but anything was better than the cage.

 

“I don’t think you’ve ever taken my cock so greedily.” Sherlock purred petting his head. “I’m not fooled into thinking you suddenly love my cock. I know how fear works. Don’t worry, John. I don’t hold it against you. It’s why I do it.”

 

 

The next day when Sherlock came in, instead of a plug he pushed his fingers inside John, the first time in ages. He couldn’t help but look up at Sherlock, surprised.

 

“Your performance yesterday made me decide that today was the day.” Sherlock smiled.

 

John felt sick, but tried not to show it. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling. He tried to think about anything but Sherlock and the room. He listened to Sherlock unbuckle his belt and the rustle of fabric. Sherlock shoved John’s legs up over his shoulders and pushed in. It was like the toys only worse. Sherlock was warm and breathing on top of him. He grunted over John, praising and taking his pleasure as if it was natural. As if John was just a hole to be fucked, stretched and used as he deemed fit. Perhaps that’s all he was now, John thought.

 

“My highest achievement will be you begging me to do this to you and for you to mean it.” 

 

Sherlock’s hand moved John’s face so he was looking at him. He picked up the pace, making John grimace, partly from the pain and partly from the idea of the future Sherlock talked about. Sherlock came inside him and then put a plug that was similar to Sherlock’s length and girth, the largest plug he seen yet, inside him. “After lunch I want you to do something for me.”

 

John looked at him. Despite the fact that Sherlock had said he would ask him to do things he never had, so far.

 

Sherlock pulled a dildo out of the box and stuck it to the wall. “I want you to fuck yourself on that.” John couldn’t breathe. “You’ll take out your plug, you’ll fuck yourself until you cum, and put the plug back in. Yes?”

 

Sherlock asked as he stared at him waiting for answer.

 

“Yes.” John murmured.

 

After John had eaten lunch, he looked at his task. The dildo was large but it didn’t look any larger than the plugs that had been used on him before. He opened the box and found the lube. After he had pulled the plug free, he lubed the dildo and stared at it again.

 

Was he really going to do this? What was the pay off? He was trapped with a man who was going to rape him until he got bored of him and passed him onto the next sicko or he died. Then he remembered the cage. How terrifying it had been to not be able to move.

 

He backed himself up to the wall and spread his arse cheeks, taking the dildo into himself. He did his best not to cry, to go as fast as he could, but he realized he wasn’t getting hard. He touched himself, but nothing worked. He thought of girls he liked; nothing. After ten minutes of nothing he gave up and put the plug back in.

 

When the room opened that night, John was afraid. More afraid than he had been in a long time. A hand settled on his shoulder and as he went to turn around a blindfold fell over his eyes. He wasn’t worried until he felt the prick of a needle in his neck. Then he fought. He could heard Sherlock shushing him, but it didn’t help. It only made it worse.

 

John woke in the cage on all fours, unable to do anything. The sides pressing against him keeping him perfectly in place. The blindfold was still in place and he had headphones playing white noise. He moved his head a few times trying to see if he could dislodge the headphones but they were on tight. A cool hand landed on his bare arse making him jump. Was it Sherlock or someone else?

 

He felt the edge of a sleeve being pushed under his nose and breathed in the scent. Sherlock’s cologne. So not someone else. A finger was pressed to the center of his lips. John opened his mouth. Sherlock’ cock landed heavy on his tongue. Unable to move he let his mouth and throat be used as Sherlock wanted.

 

When Sherlock was done he put the hose in John’s arse and filled him up. John begged until Sherlock put a ball gag in his mouth to stop him from talking. When it was over Sherlock put a tube down his nose to feed him.

 

John woke being fuck in the arse and just hoped it was Sherlock.

 

The hose was used three more times. He was gagged the second time, but after that, he learned to say thank you. The white noise never stopped. Sometimes when he fell asleep, he would wake up to be being hit hard on the arse with a paddle. Everything that was done to him, he had to say that he was grateful for it; all of it. The fucking, the paddling or enemas that left him hollow. Everything. Every time someone touched him, he moved into the touch whispered through used and cracked lips his thanks.

 

He was jerked off during painful things, told to do so, until he learned to accept that it was good. Everything that was happening to him was good, as long as it was Sherlock who was doing it to him. When he woke back on the mattress, he cried for joy, silent tears rolling down his face. He looked over and Sherlock was looking in the box.

 

“Instead of plugs I want to see if you can carry a dildo around inside of you.” Sherlock said as if he were talking about an everyday thing, and John shouldn’t have been so surprised. For them, it was.

 

“I also bought you this.” He held up a plug with what looks like fake foxtail attached to it. He smiled at John. “I had to think about if I wanted to give it to you, but I realized I really do have a thing for them. I want you to put this in you every day after lunch so it’s in you when I come see you in the evening. I thought it would suit you. The red against you skin.” 

 

John lay there, just happy to not be in the cage.

 

Sherlock got up and moved across the room. John saw an odd machine sitting in the corner. At one end was a dildo and the other end was a small wooden box. Between them was a pole. Sherlock turned the machine on, and the pole thrust back and forth.

 

“For when you get lonely. So you can fuck yourself when I’m not here. Thought having an extra hand would be nice.”

 

John looked at him.

 

“Not tonight. I want you on all fours. Face against the mattress. Roll over, I’m going to fuck you.”

 

John did as he was told, presenting his arse to Sherlock.

 

Sherlock pulled his plug out and fingered him open. “I’m going to have you start doing this. I shouldn’t be doing the work should I?”

 

John shook his head.

 

He adjusted John so his face was pushed against the mattress, his legs wide apart, and his arms were laying against his legs. Then he thrust in all at once. 

 

John moaned despite himself.

 

“Good John. I like to hear that from you. I originally bought my machine in here in case we were still having problems. I’m glad that’s not the case.”

 

John closed his eyes.

 

Sherlock grabbed his cock and John tried not to whimper. He was hard.

 

“You’re doing so well, slut.”

 

When John came, he felt a little of himself leave. He got up, moving slowly from being trapped in a confined space for too long.

 

“Good boy. You need more exercise. I should take you for a walk later.”

 

‘Leave the room?’ John wondered.

 

When Sherlock got back that evening, John was wearing the plug with the tail like Sherlock had asked. Sherlock held up a leash and a blindfold. First, he attached the leash to John’s collar, then the blindfold was put in place.

 

“You will walk on all fours. You will not speak. You will stop when I say so.”

 

John nodded.

 

The door to the room opened and John was led out. They walked around, the leash held taut. John’s knees and hands ached from the rough ground. The tail was a heavy weight in his arse and he found himself clenching around it, afraid it would fall.

 

When they returned to the room, the door was closed and the blindfold was taken off. John looked at Sherlock to see what he was to do next.

 

“Tonight, I want you to ride me.”

 

Over the next several days, John adapted to his new routine. Wake up, fuck or suck Sherlock off, have a large dildo put in him that he was to carry throughout the day, then after lunch, put in his tail plug to go on a blindfolded walk with Sherlock. Then fucked again.

 

The worst part was how hard he seemed to be all the time. He seemed to have become incredible sensitive to touch. Just fingering himself open would make his cock start to swell. He had actually gotten himself off by fingering himself, much to Sherlock’s delight.

 

It was inevitable that John would screw up. He has been on his evening walk when he’d felt warmth on his skin. The kind that came from the sun. Without thinking, he had jerked on his leash, trying to find the source. Sherlock had tried to pull him back, but he hadn’t let him. He had even yelled, “No!” A word he wasn’t suppose to use.

 

Arms had wrapped around his middle and he had been dragged back to his room. John had fought for the first time in a very long time. Once behind closed door, Sherlock had ripped the blindfold off and glared down at him.

 

John hadn’t even been afraid. He had wanted to push Sherlock further. Piss him off so much that he killed him.

 

Without a word, Sherlock left, slamming the door after himself. He didn’t return in the morning though, John’s breakfast arrived as usual, as did his lunch, and dinner. 

 

Sherlock didn’t come back all the next week.

 

John didn’t know where the camera in the room was, but he looked for it. He called out to Sherlock, crying, begging him to come back. He had given up talking so long ago, used to only moaning. It felt odd to scream.

 

He pulled out Sherlock’s favorite dildos and fucked himself on them, crying out for him. Every day, he put in his tail plug and waited for Sherlock to come take him on a walk. He would have turned on Sherlock’s fucking machine if he knew how, but it was remote controlled.

 

Three more days passed; he started to get ill. He couldn’t eat and just spend his time laying on his mattress watching the door. He was hard, aching for release, but he couldn’t cum. He’d even left a vibrator in himself hoping that would send him over him edge.

 

Eleven days had passed since Sherlock had slammed the door. Eleven days for John to be completely alone. But this morning was different. Sherlock opened the door and walked in. Despite being weak, John got up and walked on his hands and knees to him. He rubbed his face against Sherlock’s leg. Sherlock’s ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Sherlock.” John murmured.

 

“I’m sorry, John. I’ve been remiss with your care.”

 

John looked up at him and shook his head ‘no’. This was his fault. He had done this.

 

“You’re ill and it’s all my fault.”

 

John shook his head again.

 

“I wanted to punish you for being bad, but I forgot something very important about you.”

 

‘What could Sherlock have forgotten? Sherlock was amazing and brilliant, he didn’t forget things.’

 

“John, an important part of your diet is my semen. Without daily consumption, you can get very ill.” Sherlock looked down at him sadly as if he had failed him. “You really should be taking it in two or three times a day to be safe.”

 

John didn’t know why, but that made sense. He had always felt fine, wonderful, in fact on the days he had drank Sherlock’s cum.

 

“Do you know the best way to get it into you?” Sherlock asked.

 

He wanted to ask how, but it wasn’t one of his words.

 

“You can get it by swallowing it, and through your anus. From now on, whenever you think you need some, or are ever feeling poorly, just say, ‘I’m hungry, and I’ll fill you up.”

 

“Sherlock,” John said softly. “I’m hungry.”

 

Sherlock smiled down at him and freed his cock.

 

John opened his mouth and took him in all at once, moaning around him. Sherlock fucked his face and John felt himself get hard. When Sherlock came, he suckled every last drop from him.

 

“Good boy. You should feel better now.”

 

He did.

 

“Now bend over on the mattress, so I can fuck you.”

 

John got on the mattress and waited. He felt Sherlock behind him, his hands roaming over his arse and legs. Sherlock opened him quickly and pushed a large vibrator inside. After a few thrusts, he turned it on. The vibration was almost too much.

 

John tried to hold himself up on his hands and knees, but he fell onto his elbows. When he came, it was with a gruff shout. He cried from relief after wanting to cum for so long.

 

Sherlock stood and looked down at him. “I always knew you were a slut.” He smirked and left.

 

John was waiting, foxtail plug in , cock hard and pressed against his stomach when Sherlock arrived that evening.

 

“No,” Sherlock said shaking his head. 

 

John watched while he rummaged in the box for a large blue dildo and stuck it on the floor. He covered it in lube then leaned against the wall and undid his trousers.

 

“Suck me off while you fuck yourself.”

 

John got up and pulled the plug free from himself. Then he went over to the dildo and squatted over it. The thing had to be ten inches long. Way too much to take in. He looked up at Sherlock.

 

“You can’t have any until you take it to the root.” Sherlock placed a hand over the the open fly of his trousers.

 

John swallowed took hold of his arse cheeks and relaxed as much as he could. It took him a long time. Too long, by the look on Sherlock’s face but John finally took it to the root.

 

“Now fuck yourself.”

 

John slowly slid up and down, but it hurt; it was too much. He had never taken something this big before. “Sherlock,” he begged.

 

Sherlock pulled his cock free from his trousers and gagged him with it. “I know what you need. It’s ok. This will make you feel better.”

 

Sherlock kept his cock in John’s throat, not letting him have air. So John fucked himself faster. Sherlock pulled off for a second. They played push and pull, and every time John slowed down, Sherlock would choke him. John hit his own prostate over and over again, getting high off Sherlock’s smell.

 

John came groaning, Sherlock still hard in his mouth.

 

“Up.”

 

John stood quick and was shoved against the wall. Sherlock thrust into him hard, crushing him against the wall. A few minutes later, he came deep inside him, biting down on his neck.

 

John started everyday in a mild panic. Alone in his room, he would worry that Sherlock would forget to visit him and he would get sick. Gone were the days of planning escapes and wishing Sherlock wasn’t there. His survival depended on the man.

 

As soon as Sherlock was through the door, John would crawl towards him, reaching for his fly. Wanting to get that first mouthful of cum. Sherlock would laugh and ruffle his hair, letting him take his dick into his mouth.

 

Some mornings, Sherlock would stop John and tell him he wanted to fuck him instead. John preferred his morning dose by mouth, but he would take it any way he could, opening his legs for Sherlock in any position he wanted as long as he plugged him afterwards to keep the cum inside.

 

He always seemed to be hard these days, and while Sherlock was gone, he spent his time fucking himself on his toys. He would stick them to the wall and back himself against them or beg Sherlock to turn his fucking machine on and let it pound him until well after he’d finished.

 

Sherlock always smiled at him and told him he had a good hole. It was well trained and the fact that he enjoyed being pounded into all the time was good thing.

 

John wanted to tell him it made him feel safe and useful. That his hole was his purpose. He also like being filled. Being empty was just strange these days.

 

Sometimes when John’s food would arrive, it would have cum on it. John trusted it was Sherlock taking care of him and ate it eagerly.

 

The person John had been, who he had planned to become, was gone now. He didn’t think about rugby, his family, or the fact that he had had a chance to go to medical school. He thought about two things: Sherlock’s orgasm, and his own. In that order.

 

John’s life revolved around Sherlock’s cock. Where it was and why it wasn’t inside him. He was happiest after sex or with his tummy full of semen. He made sure to keep himself ready at all times and would fuck himself while Sherlock was gone to take care of his constant erections.

 

When his belly started getting bigger Sherlock tutted and told him ate too much cum and he’d have to fuck him in the arse for while. But Sherlock always told him what a good slut he was which made him smile. He wanted to do well. He wanted to be praised.

 

Sherlock was sitting on John’s mattress with John between his legs, sucking him, a vibrating dildo in his arse. John hadn’t even known this could be happiness. That having an empty head, no thought other than what Sherlock would like him to do next would be bliss.

 

Sherlock petted his hair as he turned up the vibration.

 

John moaned and rutted against the mattress.

 

“Such a good John. You take it so well in the mouth and the arse these days.”

 

John pulled off Sherlock’s cock to smile up at him, keeping his hand moving up and down Sherlock’s shaft.

 

“I only wish there was two of me, so I could fuck you at both ends.”

 

John groaned at the idea.

 

“Would my slut like that?” 

 

John nodded and gagged himself on Sherlock’s cock. The vibrator in his arse hitting his prostate.

 

When Sherlock came a few minutes later, it was too soon. John continued to lick and hold Sherlock’s cock in mouth not wanting to let go.

 

“I know it’s your favorite meal, but there’s time to have some again later.” He leaned over John and thrust the vibrator in and out of John until he came.

 

When it was over, John expected him to turn it off and take it out of him. Instead Sherlock gave him a worrying smile.

 

“You’re going to keep that in you today. At that speed.”

 

John whimpered. It was already starting to get painful with his post orgasm sensitivity.

 

“If you do well with it today, I’ll give you a present.” Sherlock rolled him over and kissed him on the temple before exiting the room.

 

John lost count after coming five times. Those were the ones that produced semen. He had had several dry orgasms as well.

 

When Sherlock came home, he was mess. He wouldn’t move, couldn’t speak, he had dried cum all over him. When Sherlock pulled the vibrator from him he had to stop himself from crying out in pain.

 

“Okay, John, what do you want?” Sherlock asked looking expectantly at him.

 

“Stars.”

 

Sherlock’s eyebrows raised.

 

“I want to see stars.”

 

Sherlock had left him to eat and had returned later with a map of the stars. He hung it on John’s wall.

 

John had been gummy limbed, but he crawled over to Sherlock, opened his trousers and took his favorite thing into his mouth.

 

“I want to try fisting you tomorrow,” Sherlock purred.

 

John was woken by Sherlock shaking his shoulder. He rolled over towards him and reached for his fly eagerly, but was stopped by Sherlock grabbing his wrists and held them above his head.

 

“Not today, John.”

 

John pouted.

 

“On your back; we have a lot of work to do.”

 

John rolled onto his back and waited for Sherlock to find what we wanted. He placed a selection of toys on the mattress next to John with the lube and took off his jacket and shirt. Sherlock hardly ever got undressed in front of him, so it was a treat.

 

In just a vest, Sherlock pulled the plug John wore to bed out of him. “Use the bathroom now, John.”

 

John did as he was told and returned to find a towel laying on his bed. He put his arse on it and got a smile from Sherlock. Over the next several hours, they worked up to larger and larger dildos. Sherlock had stuffed John so full of things that he took them all willingly and easily.

 

At lunchtime, Sherlock gave John his cock. He swallowed it gratefully, not wanting to let it go when it was over.

 

“I should make a mold of my cock so you suckle it when you’re lonely.”

 

“Yes,” John said, taking the next dildo inside him.

 

“I should make two. One that you can mount to the wall and one that you can keep in your mouth. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my slut?”

 

John nodded. It wouldn’t be the same, but he could pretend.

 

When Sherlock finally got his hand inside him, it was a relief. John had enjoyed having Sherlock with him for so long. He hoped they do this again, just so Sherlock would spend hours with him in his room. But he had been waiting to be filled, to know what it was like, and when it finally happened, he almost passed out.

 

When Sherlock was done with him and everything was cleaned up, he fucked John’s face, doing most of work. John felt bad, but Sherlock told him it was ok.

 

A week later, Sherlock came in and found John looking at his star chart. It was evening and John was happy to see him.

 

“I’m hungry, Sherlock,” John said, putting a hand on his stomach.

 

“I know you are. I’m going to fuck you this time. Get on you knees.”

 

John did as he was told and waited. The plug was pulled free and Sherlock started pounding into him. John panted, his cock hardening.

 

“Elbows, John,” Sherlock demanded. 

 

John fell onto his elbows, listening to Sherlock take his pleasure. It made his cock harder. The feeling of Sherlock in him, knowing that Sherlock’s cum would be inside him soon.

 

He pushed John at a punishing speed, fucking him painfully hard. John just begged for more. He no longer remembered how to do anything else. Couldn’t decipher pain from pleasure anymore. He came, painting the mattress. Sherlock pulled out, rolled him over, and plunged back in, fucking him harder. 

 

John cried for joy.

 

When Sherlock was done, he stood over John his cock still out.

 

“Open your mouth.”

 

John did it without thinking. As Sherlock’s piss hit his tongue he opened his mouth wider so he didn’t miss any. Any thing from Sherlock’s body must be good for him.

 

“I think you’re ready.”

 

It was sometime later that Sherlock came in with a box. John had gotten used to being thankful for presents, even if he feared them. The star chart was wonderful but then Sherlock had gotten him a spread bar and left him in it all day. His body had ached when Sherlock returned. He had fucked him hard in the arse, then untied him.

 

Sherlock let him have his cock after he switched his plug for a vibrator. He knelt for John so he could be on all fours.

 

“I’m so proud of what you’ve accomplished John. It’s only been a year you know.”

 

‘Had he only know Sherlock that little? How had he survived without him before?’

 

Sherlock put a hand on the back of John’s head and played with his hair.

 

“Your hair is getting long. But I’ll have my slut cleaned up soon enough.”

 

John wiggled his arse at his pet name. He took his time sucking Sherlock’s cock, holding off his orgasm as long as possible. 

 

“You can’t get enough of it can you? Do you think about anything else but my cock?”

 

John looked up at Sherlock mouth full of cock arse stuffed with plastic and swooned.

 

“Now my little slut is so happy. Just the way I made you.” Sherlock thrust into his mouth a few times and came. 

 

John licked him clean and put him away, earning himself a pat on the head. He hadn’t come yet, but he was close. Sherlock rolled him on his back and for the first time in months touched his cock. John came all over himself, Sherlock smiling down at him.

 

“Now for your present.” Sherlock opened the box and presents him with a dressing gown made of blue silk.

 

It was so nice John was afraid to touch it.

 

“Put it on John.”

 

John motioned to his empty hole.

 

“You are a good slut.”

 

John smiled as Sherlock stuffed his plug back in. Full again, he let Sherlock help him into the dressing gown. Sherlock puts his blindfold on him next. He expected the leash, it’s the only way he’d left the room before. Instead Sherlock picked him up and carried him.

 

John said nothing and just pressed him face against Sherlock’s neck. They walked for a while then he heard a door open. Sherlock set him on his feet and John jumped. He was standing on carpet. He hadn’t touched carpet in a lifetime. 

 

Sherlock took the blindfold off him and he looked around the new room. It looked like a flat. There was a double bed with sheets and a headboard sitting against one wall, a strange bench of some kind, a swing, a desk, a burrow, dresser, a door leading off to another room, and a chair with a dildo attached to it, so if you sat down, it would impale you.

 

John looked around the room, then at Sherlock, who was going through the top drawer of the dresser. He pulled out some clothing and threw them at John.

 

“Put these on I have one more thing to show you.”

 

John looked at the pajama bottoms and t-shirt. ‘These were for him? When had he last worn clothing?’

 

“Hurry John!”

 

John took off his nice dressing gown and put it on the odd bench. Then he clumsily pulled the clothing on. Sherlock handed him a pair of slippers. He pulled those on as well and stood still as Sherlock put the blindfold back on him. He was picked up again and they left the room.

 

It was silent until they opened another door. John could heard grunting and the slap of skin. It sounded like someone was having sex. He was set on his feet and the blindfold taken off.

 

Through a large window John could see a young man no older than him with light brown hair being fucked from both side. There were six men in the room in total including the man in the middle. He had a man taking him in his arse and one in his mouth. There were two chatting over beers at a table and one smoking by a door.

 

The two men finished and the three who had been sitting out stepped forward. The guy they had been fucking looked ready to collapse but when he saw them he came back to life and rubbed against him. The two that had been chatting took him in the arse at the same time while the other one took his mouth. There was cum, piss and alcohol everywhere.

 

Sherlock put an arm around John’s shoulder. “Meet Victor Trevor, your predecessor.”

 

John felt ill. He felt scared. ‘Was this what all this had been for? He had been good. He had done everything he was suppose to do. Was this where he got passed off?’

 

“No, John, this isn’t your fate.” Sherlock said in a concerned voice.

 

John realized he was crying.

 

“Victor was a failure. I was too heavy handed with him. I thought I wanted him to be a certain way, and then when he was, it was boring. You see that.”

 

He pointed to a plug sitting on a table near the door. Like John’s foxtail plug it had a fake animal tail except this one was silver.

 

John nodded.

 

“He actually thinks that’s his tail. When I got him I chained him up and never spoke around him, treated him like a dog until he actually started thinking he was a dog. If someone’s not fucking him he needs that tail in him or he freaks out. He even thinks his name is puppy. He’s completely forgotten who Victor Trevor was.”

 

John sniffed.

 

Sherlock reached out and dried his tears. “You aren’t boring John. While Victor was a failure, he taught me what it was a really wanted. Where I went wrong. Then I met you.” He smiled. “You aren’t a failure John. You’re perfect.”

 

“Sherlock.”

 

“Yes, John.”

 

“I’m hungry.”

 

“I know you are. Don’t worry I’m going to fill you up. As long as you’re mine, no one else will ever touch you. And you’ll always be mine, won’t you, John?”

 

John nodded in relief.

 

He wasn’t happy until he had Sherlock’s cock in his mouth. When he knew that soon, he would have his cum running down his throat.

 

“Such a greedy slut.” Sherlock smiled.

 

John took him into the root, humming his approval.

 

It took John some time to get used to his new room. After so long with hardly anything, he was not used to being pampered. His new room had come with new toys and Sherlock often asked him to play with his chair that fucked him while he was away. When he showered, to fuck himself on a dildo while he was there.

 

John was never empty, which made him happy and Sherlock came to visit his new room, often staying longer than he used to. If the things he asked John to do were humiliating, John didn’t notice anymore. As long as he got to suck Sherlock’s cock, he was happy.

 

Waking in the morning in a bed was still odd John, who was used to simply rolling onto his hands and knees and crawling to Sherlock. He still did that most of the time, though Sherlock asked him to walk around on two feet when he was alone, to make sure he didn’t lose the skill. 

 

John heard the door unlock and rolled out of bed. He was on his knees crawling to Sherlock as he came in the door.

 

“Hello, John.”

 

“Hello.” John was now allowed to speak when spoken to, as long as he never refused Sherlock. John reached for his breakfast, but Sherlock shook his head. 

 

“I have something else in mind today. I want to see how many time I can cum inside you before you can’t hold it in anymore.”

 

John smiled. He would miss drinking Sherlock’s cum with his mouth, but if it made Sherlock happy, he would do it.

 

John stood up and leaned over the edge of the bed, his arse out for Sherlock.

 

Sherlock snuggled up behind him pulled his plug free and gave him his first load.

 

It was near midnight (Sherlock told him) when John finally had enough. He’s been fucked five times. Sherlock took him into the bathroom pulled his plug free and made him hold it as he fucked him one last time.

 

John’s body aches but he held on. He felt Sherlock cum in him, but he didn’t pull out.

 

“Just a little bit more John, I want to give you a special enema. Do this right and you can drink as much as me as you like tomorrow.”

 

John moaned at the idea of it.

 

Then he felt a warm liquid filling him. Sherlock was pissing inside him. It wasn’t the first time. Sherlock had done it before to see if John could hold it. John smiled.

 

When John’s door opened the next day Sherlock was carrying a bag. He put it on John’s bed and smiling at him even more brightly than he had the day before.

 

“I have things for you.”

 

John nodded.

 

He pulled out a small box and handed it to John. Inside was blue plug.

 

“I thought you deserved a new one. A pretty one.”

 

John smiled.

 

Sherlock started pulling clothing out. John took the garments with mild confusion. He hardly wore the clothing he owned why did he need more? The most we did wear was a pair of pants to keep  
the heavy dildos Sherlock liked his to walk around with inside him.

 

“We’re going out.”

 

“Me?” John squeaked.

 

“Yes.” I need you to do something for me.”

 

John paled.

 

“No, John, I told you only I get to touch you.” Sherlock said firmly.

 

John nodded and reminded himself that he wasn’t Victor Trevor.

 

Sherlock switched John’s plugs and then helped him dress. It had been so long since he had done up so many buttons. Sherlock had him in fitted jeans, a dark blue button up shirt with a black leather jacket.

 

Sherlock headed for the door and John put up his first protest.

 

“Sherlock,” he turned back to look at John. “I’m hungry.”

 

Sherlock looked at him like he had completely forgotten. “I’ll feed you in the car. I promise.” He put John’s blindfold on him then took him by the hand.

 

When fresh air hit him, John was shocked. He had been told they were going outside, but to feel the breeze on him was different. He let himself be led to a car and shoved in.

 

He sat waiting for Sherlock to slide in and didn’t feel safe tell he felt his hand resting high on his thigh. The car started to move and John nudged Sherlock.

 

“Hungry.”

 

“Yes, yes, my greedy boy. Here on your knees.” Sherlock steered him so he was on the floor of the car. 

 

He waited listening to the sound of Sherlock’s fly open. Then he felt a hand on the back of his head directing him forward. He latched on Sherlock’s cock moaning in delight. The plug in his arse began to vibrate.

 

“This is the only way to travel. I’m going to have to fuck you on the way to school some time. Careful not to spill; these are new trousers.”

 

John hummed back.

 

“There are going to be some different rules for today. You will be allowed to speak to other people only after I give you permission. I will either give you permission before we walk up to the person or by nodding to you. If I shake my head you must stay silent.”

 

John bobbed his head up and down.

 

“I can’t tell if you’re agreeing or just eager to take more of my cock down your throat.” He chuckled and turned the plug inside John up.

 

John whined around him.

 

“Going to come?”

 

John looked up and nodded.

 

Sherlock handed him some tissue. John freed his cock and held the tissue over it’s head. Never breaking from what he really wanted. His own orgasm was fine, but what he really wanted was a belly full of semen.

 

Sherlock grunted spilling into his mouth. The taste caused John to cum. He licked Sherlock clean and then suckled the tip, refusing to let go.

 

“I wish I had more to give you. But I’m fresh out.”

 

John licked him nuzzling his soft cock. Sherlock let him stay there petting his head occasionally.

 

Eventually John was forced up into his seat and his blindfold was taken off. The car was pulling up to a University. John looked out his window at the students, feeling an odd sense of nostalgia.

 

‘Had he gone to university? Was this the kind of life he used to live? Were there friends somewhere missing him?” John looked at Sherlock and all that went away. All he needed was the man in front of him.

 

They exited the car and it drove off. Sherlock took John’s hand and they silently made their way into the school.

 

They attended a lecture, which had been fascinating. He didn’t understand most of it, but listening to all the people talk had been fun. After Sherlock had taken him for tea and had talked about more things he didn’t comprehend, but he was good at smiling. Sherlock would lean in and put a hand on the back of his neck like when he sucked him off.

 

John kept trying to drop his head into his lap only to have Sherlock tell him no. He was just touching him. But Sherlock never just touched him. There was always a purpose for everything.

 

After tea,Sherlock showed him the campus. Where his dorm room had been when he’d been a freshman. He was taking John to the library when a professor caught up with them. Sherlock told John to wait while he talked to him. When he came back he was smiling.

 

“He’s a client.”

 

John looked confused.

 

“Of Victor,’. I keep telling him I don’t handle booking, but he wants me to bump him to the front of the line.”

 

John stared at the ground.

 

“Don’t look like that. We have everything, because of him. I can afford to keep you from the money I make off him. I would have sold him a long time ago, but I make too much money from him. Enough to play for your place, all your toys, lube, and food.”

 

“Sorry.” John whispered nuzzling against Sherlock.

 

Sherlock hugged him. “It’s fine, just don’t pout every time I mention him. He likes his work. He works so I can spend all my time taking care of you.” He let John go and they started off in the direction of the library again.

 

As they passed someone, Sherlock put his arm around John’s shoulder, pulling him closer so he wouldn’t bump against the person they were passing.

 

“Holmes.”

 

Sherlock stopped then gradually turned around. An unpleasant looking man stood a few feet away from them looking them over.

 

“Sebastian.”

 

“Where did you pick him up? Or are you paying him?”

 

“If you’ll excuse us, we were on our way.’

 

“No come back? No biting retort?” The man looked at John. “Did he pay you to walk around campus so it seems like someone likes him?”

 

John looked at Sherlock who nodded at him.

 

“I don’t know why you feel it’s appropriate to be hostile to my boyfriend and I, but I would appreciate it if you would fuck off.”

 

The man looked at him.

 

“I’m hungry, Sherlock.” John said turning back to him.

 

Sherlock nodded. “Then I should feed you.”

 

They walked off. Sherlock trying to hide his grin.

 

Sherlock found them a corner and told John to get on his knees. Happy to be getting what he wanted, John did as he was told. Sherlock gave him his soft cock. John licked his lips. He loved Sherlock’s cock hardening in his mouth.

 

Sherlock stared adorningly down at him while his sucked him off being as quiet as he could for the first time in his life.

 

"Today’s my birthday.” Sherlock whispered.

 

“I didn’t get you anything.” John whispered back.

 

“You did though. You gave me today. You were perfect, you didn’t fail and every year you don’t fail that’s a gift to me.”

 

A book dropping near by distracted John, he looked to see the man from before heading off. He would have seen John on his knees.

 

“You gave me that as well.”

 

John looked up.

 

“He didn’t think someone like you would ever be with someone like me. He wants you. Wants what I have. He wants my little slut.”

 

After Sherlock finished, the rest of the tour was canceled. He called the car back and they headed back to John’s room. 

 

Back home, John took off his new clothing and went to Sherlock who was laying on his bed with his phone. He started to open his trousers, but John stopped him.

 

“It’s your birthday, you pick.”

 

“The fuck bench.” Sherlock smiled. 

 

John nodded.

 

“And tomorrow I want to put you on the spreader and fuck you through the day.” 

 

John shivered in anticipation.

 

 

5 YEARS LATER

 

John sat on the bed in his new flat. It was going to be strange waking up next to someone each morning. That was, if he could get Sherlock to come to bed at night. He had never realized not living with him how little the man slept. Or how poorly he took care of himself. 

 

Footsteps on the stairs to the flat alerted him that Sherlock was done with the landlady. He hoped he had put it kindly that they enjoyed privacy. They didn’t need her walking in on John naked. Or with him cleaning his large supply of dildos.

 

Sherlock came into the bedroom and saw him.

 

“It’s fine. I think I got it though. We do need to lock the doors just in case.”

 

John nodded.

 

“You will have to wear clothing when clients are over.”

 

“Yes, Sherlock.”

 

John looked around the room. Nothing of his was in there except for a box under the bed of his favorite toys and his clothing. Most of his things, like the sex swing, and fuck bench, and his star chart were being kept in the upstairs bedroom. Sherlock had promised to turn it into a playroom for him once they got more moved in.

 

Sherlock’s phone beeped.

 

“We should go.”

 

At the restaurant Mycroft insisted on forcing to to come to he kept both hands on the table where his brother could see them. In front of anyone else he could have had a hand on John’s upper thigh, but Mycroft didn’t approve. Especially in such a well respected restaurant.

 

“I’ve let you get away with it, because you’ve always given more back to society than you’ve taken. But he has to be the last, Sherlock.”

 

“Isn’t this coming a few years too late?”

 

John sipped his tea as if he wasn’t even there.

 

“You took a brilliant man. He was going to go to medical school. Now I can’t even tell if he can hear us.”

 

“He can hear us. He just doesn’t respond until I give him permission.”

 

Mycroft looked at John as if he might raise his head at that. “What happens if you get caught? I can only protect you so much and the money you make from your mistake will only go so far.”

 

“You enjoy my mistake.” Sherlock smiled. “You use him more than anyone. When you’re not using him for yourself, you’re loaning him out to friends. You’ve made some lucrative deals with my mistake’s arse.”

 

Mycroft didn’t even look offended.

 

“And what is this I hear about a gang bang you planned? A for a show for someone?”

 

“His boat has sailed. We have to worry about the one you decided should come out of hiding.”

 

Sherlock looked at John who was staring at the table as if there wasn’t a thought in his head. There might not have been. Sherlock had spent years making sure that all John thought about was his cock and how often he could get it. It hadn’t been until nine months ago that he’d given the man a book, which he had thrown over his shoulder in of favor of getting fucked.

 

Sherlock had realized while he’d made the perfect sexual partner, if he wanted John to join the world again, he would have to start educating him. They had argued and Sherlock had gotten the cage out for the first time in years. He’d let John suck him off but only once a day, which had been torture for the man.

 

He’d finally gotten John to the point where he could make his own food and was reading on his own. It wasn’t that he’d lost the skills Sherlock had realized, it was that he had forced himself not to think about them. He knew he didn’t want John independent. But he wanted him to be able to hold a conversation.

 

“I had a false birth certificate made. He has a new past.” Sherlock said with an air of boredom.

 

“What if his family comes looking for him?” Mycroft shot back

 

“He’s legally my husband, so they can’t take him away from me.” Sherlock smirked.

 

“You married him?” Mycroft’s mask cracked showing his dislike for John.

 

“Yes. Say hello to your brother-in-law, John.” Sherlock said smiling at John.

 

John’s head shot up. “Hello.”

 

“He might run away or tell.” Mycroft sneered.

 

“Would you try to leave me John?” Sherlock said in mock hurt.

 

“No.” John said looking at Sherlock.

 

“Why?” Sherlock smiled at his brother.

 

“Because I belong to him.” John said turning to look at Mycroft for the first time.

 

Sherlock smiled.

 

“Sherlock, I’m hungry.” John reached out and taking hold of his sleeve.

 

“Then let’s feed you.” Sherlock smiled at John. “See you later.” Sherlock said with little feeling to his brother.

 

“If he’s hungry, we can order something off the menu.” Mycroft said slightly exasperated.

 

Sherlock smirked. “John’s on a restricted diet.”

 

In the bathroom Sherlock let his head fall back against the stall while John sucked him off. The man had an appetite that didn’t seem to go away with age. Not that Sherlock was complaining.

 

The fact that after all this time John was happiest with Sherlock’s cock in his mouth was something to be thankful for. When he had come up with the idea to tell John he would die with out his cum it had been a thing of genius.

 

He’d already been convincing John he couldn’t live without him. The white noise when he’d been in the cage sending him subliminal messages, drugs in his food to make his feel unsure and that Sherlock was the only thing he would rely on, and the giving and taking away of affection. Then he’d lightly poisoned him and come in for the rescue.

 

Sherlock had needed that final push to make John need him and John had needed a reason to give in. With John here now between his legs, he could easily say it had been a worthwhile gamble.

 

It hadn’t always been easy. As Sherlock had gotten more into his detective work he had gotten forgetful of John at times, sometimes showing up only long enough to fuck John or have John suck him off.

 

There were days he forgot to go at all and he’d find John waiting at the door naked ready to take him how ever Sherlock would give it. On those days, he would take John to his bed and have him suck his cock and then let him sleep in his lap while he worked. 

 

The main reason they were moving in together was so Sherlock could take care of him better. And after all this time he doubted John would run. Sherlock didn’t think he knew how.

 

“My little slut treats me so well.” He signed.

 

When he was done and John had cleaned him, they left the restaurant. He took John to the store and walked him around pointing things out he would be buying in the future when he shopped alone. John’s hand reaching for the lube when they passed it.

 

“Yes, we do go through a lot of that.” Sherlock laughed.

 

They were walking through the park when a woman called out to them.

 

“John, oh my God! John, is that you?”

 

Sherlock and John turned to look at her.

A woman five years older than John and who Sherlock recognized as being a relative, sister most likely, stepped towards them. Her eyes were wide with shock. As she stepped closer she reached out for John.

 

“John, please look at me! It’s your sister, Harry!”

 

‘So he’d been right about the sister.’

 

John moved away from her touch and closer to Sherlock. He looked up at him and waited.

 

It was now or never. Sherlock nodded.

 

“I think you have me confused. I don’t know you.”

 

“No,” she said, a little less sure. “John Watson. you have to be him.”

 

It was John’s turn to be confused. He hadn’t heard his last name in years. He might have forgotten it. Sherlock had always just called him John or slut.

 

“My name is John Holmes, if you’ll excuse us.”

 

As Sherlock turned away from her, he saw the doubt. He saw that now that she was looking at him she couldn’t see her John at all, because he wasn’t. This John was his.

 

John and he headed home to Baker Street. He would have to unpack the upstairs as a present for being so good in public.

 

“Sherlock.”

 

“Hmm.” He said putting an arm around his husband’s shoulders.

 

“I’m hungry.”

 

“Then I should feed you when we get home.”

**Author's Note:**

> there is a piece of art by Archiaart going around tumblr with John on a mattress and Sherlock fucking him. thats for this fic.  
> http://archiaart.tumblr.com/post/99084771511/reshaping


End file.
